It’s Summer Time in Phoenix…It’s 110+ degrees fehrenheit most days…Let’s put a big rubber and plastic thing filled with water in the middle of Downtown Phoenix. That won’t add any element of humidity. At all.

I rarely get to spend some QT with my sister. (Damn you, Adulthood!!)
But it was a rare occasion that she and I got to spend some time together and do our least favorite thing — Shopping. At the mall.

*Queue the Funeral March (Instrumental)*
(Side Note: Why did I feel it necessary to clarify that it be the instrumental version? Is there a non-instrumental version of that song? Probably not. Should there be? Absolutely. Get on it, music people.)

The whole week that I was sitting at the other office location — I had to deal with my petty frustrations of someone sitting in the most perfect desk ever.

Seriously. It was perfect.

It was squirreled off in the back. There was NO excuse for anyone to go back there. It was beautiful.(I’m getting a little choked up just thinking about it. I’M FEELING VERKLEMPT.)

So, naturally, I decided that I would partake in some light pranking.

I barely remember his name — but I felt like we were close enough that I could do this stuff and pass it off like, “C’mon! We’re buds!” and, it would also free me of all blame. Because he doesn’t know me, I don’t know him — Why would I do such a thing?(I would. Aggravation is always the name of the game. Always.)

The last imparting thing I wanted to do was sit in his chair.
Because then something would feel different.